


The Thorns of Roses

by Domoz



Category: Critical Hit (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:49:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22755028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domoz/pseuds/Domoz
Summary: One eladrin out of every thousand is born with a mark that means that, somewhere out in the world, they have a soulmate. Someone they are destined to be with.Orem Rivendorn has a mark, and a long time to learn that soulmate doesn’t mean love at first sight.
Relationships: Ket H'zard/Orem Rivendorn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	The Thorns of Roses

It was a little strange growing up knowing you were destined to meet _someone_ and not having the faintest idea who.

The mark on Orem’s wrist was not a large one, a small black oval, pointed at one end. A seed. The story goes that when you meet your soulmate the seed sprouts, and then grows into some beautiful flowering plant as the relationship does.

In his youth he had been excited about it, almost proud, and had wasted far too much time wondering what his soulmate would be like – a powerful wizard, perhaps, or a dashing swordsman. His parents had been less enthused and so he had spent many long afternoons having his wrist examined by experts who confirmed time and time again that the seed was not some strange birthmark, but confirmation that his future was in the hands of fate and not them.

He had grown less excited as the years passed by. Eladrin lived a long time, and most people in his situation weren’t expected to meet their soulmate until they were in their hundreds, but it was still a disappointment when after his first day at the Cerulean Academy he pulled back the sleeve of his robe to find that the seed remained unsprouted.

It had become a habit – as he expected it was for most others with a similar mark – for Orem to check every day to see if there was a sprout, but the lack of change and the small pang of disappointment made it less exciting each time. He was told, by others and by all the stories, that he would _know_ when he met his soulmate, anyway, so by the time he graduated Orem hardly thought about the seed at all. Even less so as he ventured out into the natural world – he was hardly meeting any eladrin there – though he did still self consciously check each night after the group he had found himself with encountered elves. He had no idea if elves shared the same phenomenon as eladrin, or if it was possible for an eladrin to form a bond with one if they did, but he always felt just a little embarrassed at how relieved he felt when the seed had still not changed.

No, as he expected when he had first left the Grove, nothing changed at all in that respect. As a matter of fact, there was too much going on for him to spend any time thinking of that at all. The eladrin he was searching for was missing, the moon had fallen, there were strange beasts and even stranger party members. As strange as it was, something that should have been central to his life had entirely slipped his mind. Oh, he would catch glimpses here or there, but nothing changed, as ever, and his thoughts were better spent on the fact that in short order he was going to be on the _moon_.

* * *

Shallai was far _too much_ , at first. There was hardly any time to breathe between one Void crisis and the next, so Orem simply didn’t. 

Their first point of order was to go pick up their new goddess-assigned teammate from some bar. To say he made a first impression was an understatement – Ket H’zard introduced himself by being thrown out of the door to land at Orem’s feet.

He didn’t have time to get an impression of the man until after they were on a taxi back to the Vineyard. 

Ket was… strange. Orem wasn’t sure if he found him charming or aggravating. What he _did_ know was very little – Ket was vague about even the most innocent of questions so Orem could only gather what he observed himself. _That_ was why he kept finding his gaze drawn to Ket; the fact that he was the most attractive non-eladrin he’d met so far (or he would be, if he wore something else besides that terrible coat) was just a nice bonus. 

Not that the observation netted Orem anything besides a strange feeling that there was something more to Ket than what he was revealing. Which seemed like it was the point, given how the man behaved. It bothered him, but seeing as how he was to be working with Ket for the for the foreseeable future what else was he supposed to do but live with it?

Between Ket and Bao Bell Bina and the Void Cyst his mind didn’t cross the mark on Orem’s wrist at all – not until that night, when he was preparing to meditate and, just by chance, the sleeve of his robe brushed aside and he caught a glimpse of green.

It was like time stopped, and his vision tunneled to focus on only that spot. The seed had sprouted –it was small but it _was there_ , even after he rubbed at the spott a little _too_ vigorously with his other hand. Was there an eladrin in the crowd at the bar he hadn’t noticed? There had to be something wrong. _How could he have missed meeting his soulmate?_ He didn’t remember specifically looking at his mark since before they had gone to the moon, this could have been _anyone_.

He stared at the tiny green spout for a long time –until the sky outside started to lighten –but the only thing he felt was a cold numbness. What could he do? He could go back to the bar, of course, hoping his soulmate had noticed _him_ and would be back too, but that was no guarantee. And he could hardly spare the time when a trip out there would take the better part of a day – with the Void making its own movements all that time.

No, if he had been noticed he hoped that the word of who he was would be enough for him to be found. He was young, after all, the time he was trying to beat was not finding someone, but making sure the world didn’t spiral into a worse state than it already had.

* * *

  
Not that deciding to leave it alone did anything for his mood. Orem felt like he was going to be sick the next day, and the day after that. The relative lack of rest he had gotten did nothing to lighten his mood. If Randus and Torq had noticed, then they knew him well enough by now not to mention it to him. 

Ket, on the other hand, had no such experience. They had split up, and perhaps it was because Ket wasn’t aware of how bad of a mood he was in, or because Randus and Torq _were_ , but today the search for information had taken the two of them to a university in a neighborhood named Eladrin Heights.

Orem tried to remain cheerful; supposedly this place was so named for the population of eladrin who lived there. It was a long shot, but it wasn’t impossible that his soulmate was somewhere around there. 

  
So he kept an eye out – if his soulmate _was_ there, he wasn’t going to miss them this time. Of course, that made Orem sharply aware of every tilted-head curious glance that Ket cast his way. H’zard clearly knew _something_ was up, but things got a little too distracting before he could press the issue. 

They would have to stay the night in the neighborhood for at least a few days, and the rooms in the inns they had asked around at were far too expensive, and one thing had led to another and he and Ket were staying in the university dorms, and Orem was pretending to be the dean’s nephew. It was _stupid_ and Orem knew it was stupid, and Ket was goading him along with a smug smile that told him that he thought it was too. 

But the plan seemed to work out just fine, especially after they had dealt with the dean himself.

The trouble was that with all the distraction Orem had stopped paying such vigilant attention and it wasn’t until the party had reconvened and gone to rest that he realized with a start what he had forgotten. 

Orem brushed the sleeve of his robe aside as guilt and dread rose up his throat. There, on his wrist, was the worst outcome –the spout had grown. Not by much, but a single small leaf was there where there hadn’t been one before. 

He had missed his soulmate, somehow. _Again_. Orem felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and there, standing alone in the darkened room, didn’t try to brush them away. There had to be something wrong. With him, with his soulmate, with the connection – he wasn’t sure, but something clearly wasn’t working.

It felt like he couldn’t think or move and Orem sank to the floor as he began to sob. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, every story he had ever heard about soulmates –even the bittersweet ones –they at least knew who the other was. It was supposed to be _obvious_. Was his soulmate having the same worries? Or, perhaps, they were avoiding him on purpose.

That thought brought no solace to Orem as he tried and failed miserably to even his breathing and just _calm down_. It was fate, wasn’t it? When he met his soulmate – _really_ met them – they would probably realize there was a reason things had happened this way. He hoped.

* * *

For Orem, there wasn’t much more development after that. Torq made a half-hearted attempt at getting to the bottom of why he was so crabby, but gave up after being snapped at the first time; if Randus had even noticed, he hadn’t made it obvious.

That left Ket, who seemed to be smart enough to not press the issue… for the most part.

Plans proceeded, and now theirs was to gather allies and resources in the war against the Void, splitting up onto different ships for different missions. Orem’s mood was bad and only grew worse as the time to depart grew nearer. There was less chance to find a clue to his personal issues if they left the city entirely.

The night before they were meant to depart Ket decided to risk asking, perhaps thinking that Orem would forget any missteps he had made by the time they reunited. Ket found him in the arcane laboratory, leaning over a book, but Orem was clearly not focused on his reading when he looked up and locked gazes with him.

“Orem!” His voice was a little too cheerful, his mouth twisted a little too much in way that hinted he was up to something, “How are you?”

He gave Ket as withering a look as he could muster, but Ket just crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow so Orem straightened his back and sighed.

“Fine.”

“Oh? _This_ is what’s fine for you?”

Now Orem’s jaw tightened. What would Ket know about any of this?

“You wouldn’t get it.”

Ket just tilted his head to the side. Unreadable as ever he responded, simply, “Try me.”

And if Orem had been thinking rationally he would have thought about how he didn’t know much about Ket at all, and perhaps he _would_ know. But Orem was angry and that didn’t cross his mind at all. Instead he rolled up the sleeve of his robe and thrust his arm into Ket’s chest.

“This seed means I have a soulmate out there somewhere,” his throat grew tighter as he spoke, “And I’ve met them, somewhere, but I don’t know _who they are_.”

Whatever Ket thought he had been up to faded from his face. Now he looked down at the tiny seedling on Orem’s wrist and seemed confused. Concerned? 

“You’re right, that is a tough one,” He hesitated for a long moment, eyes still locked on the seedling. “But if it’s as serious as soulmates, then maybe whoever it is will be waiting on the dock for you when you get back?”

Orem snatched his hand away and brushed around Ket out the door.

“It’s a nice thought, but naive. Good night, _Ket_.” 

* * *

(He kept a close eye on the seedling as they went from staticite to tryskelion and there was no change. That ruled out his ship mates at the very least.)

* * *

  
  


When they dock their ship Orem can’t help but cast his eyes around the docks, just in case, but only Torq and Ket are standing at the end, waiting for him and Randus to meet them. 

And things proceeded as they tended to, with an attack from the Void distracting Orem from getting too caught up in his own thoughts. After the fact, he worried a little too deeply about the destruction caused when the Void destroyed a city block, but the seedling was still alive and green and maybe even somehow a little taller, if Orem squinted.

Then there was no time to mope about any of it, because it was time to assault the Void head on and Orem was meant to do it himself. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


More worrying than anything that had happened to him so far, when Orem was sent back to the natural world and then the feywild, he took a long moment to catch his breath and brood and and take another look at his sprout.

It had blossomed. A tiny, _tiny_ , orange flower now grew from one side as the stem grew further up. 

_What?_

So rather than mope, Orem spent the better part of an hour wracking his brain. It had grown, and if stories were true that meant he had met his soulmate _again_ , and not realized, only he was fairly certain major growth like this was only reserved for growth in a relationship, which wasn’t possible if they hadn’t even spoken.

The theories buzzed around his head. Perhaps someone in the Vineyard had been in disguise? Or had been giving him anonymous help? _Invisible help?_

 _But it hardly mattered now_ , Orem realized with a sinking feeling. _Whoever it was, they were back in the astral sea, now_.

Then Randus and Torq showed up, and then someone named Trelle, and Ket, led by a hedgehog. 

He didn’t like the stinging feeling behind his eyes when he realized that this elf and his sister were (or had been) an item, and he liked it even less when Ket laughed over it. _Of course they had. Kammis had no mark, no seed, no need to worry about what her future soulmate might think._

He would find a bracer as soon as he could and lace it up tight over the tiny flower that bloomed there. The feywild needed better than someone who was worried over this when there was nothing to be done. 

Orem made a point not to look at it –not in the feywild, or with the Hogba, nor in the natural world, or the underdark _or_ the feydark. Certainly not in Whitestone, where the eyes of eladrin who knew him were certainly drawn to the fact that it was covered so conspicuously. It was embarrassing, after all, to have met your soulmate and yet not know who they were. 

If Trelle knew, she did not say, and he _knew_ Ket knew, but he didn’t either – though he seemed to offer support in his strange _Ket_ way. Offering to play games, and when that inevitably failed, spending his watch time sitting next to him, making dubious small talk that never came around to himself. He had known Ket for a while, then, and still hadn’t decided whether or not he was charming or aggravating. At that point, he had settled on both _._

He hadn’t intended to look until he could make it back to the astral sea, but things didn’t work out that way.

  
  


* * *

  
  


He didn’t know how else to look at it, except as a betrayal.

 _He_ was supposed to have gone with the Hogba. It was the logical choice, of course. The feywild was _his_ home, it was supposed to be _his_ sacrifice to make.

Instead he wound up choked out and left alone with no explanation and an empty hole in his chest.

If they wanted him to stay and lead so badly, then he would. What other choice was there?

  
  


* * *

  
  


Even if Orem had tried his hardest, it was hard not to look at his own wrist for five years. He managed about a month before just sighing and taking the bracer off and was _shocked_ to find that the flower had grown twice the size, with several more tiny orange blooms dotting the spreading vine.

Somehow, it continued to grow. Which meant that, barring something incredibly strange, either his soulmate was among the survivors who came from the astral sea, or had been with him all along.

That thought stayed burning in the back of his mind. He made it a point to at least meet everyone under his care –but the flower did not grow any further. In what tiny amount of free time he had, Orem also looked for research material, because the other option would mean that somehow, some way, his soulmate _wasn’t_ an eladrin. 

But the Academy’s libraries had been decimated, and if such a story had happened before, he wasn’t able to find it any longer. It was just another in a long list of things that made him feel utterly stuck and alone.

  
  


* * *

If it _was_ one of his allies there was only one choice as to who it could be. The seed had not sprouted when he had met Randus or Torq, and certainly had been growing long before he had met Trelle.

If it were Ket, it would raise as many questions as it answered. Ket was half- _something_ , but try as he might to remember, he never remembered Ket saying it was half- _elf_. If someone had called him that he hadn’t denied it, but it seemed to be in Ket’s nature to let people believe the easiest thing about him whether it was true or not. That in and of itself would cause a problem. And then there were his souls – souls _plural,_ which certainly could cause an issue with his _soulmate_. 

If Ket had a mark, a seed of his own, certainly he would have said something by now. Or perhaps not, because there was a possibility that even if he had such a thing, Ket wouldn’t know the significance of it. It was just a strange birthmark –nothing a man as private as him would want to share with Orem.

He couldn’t know for sure if it was true until he could see them again. See _Ket_ again. 

* * *

  
  


(It took most of those five years for Orem to admit to himself that he did miss them, despite what they had done to him. Ket perhaps most of all, if only for the want to confirm his suspicions.)

  
  


* * *

  
  


He does not ask where Ket is when he sees Randus again, still a little too bitter to open himself that way. But he does listen very carefully when he hears that they are going to Coldport. Keeping an eye out for his soulmate hasn’t done him any good in the past, but this time he knows what he’s looking for. 

This time, he gets an odd feeling from the orc named Thalson right away, and an even odder one from the grubby dwarf who leads them into the plague district. When they slip inside and he pulls off the hat and it turns out to have been Ket all along, he feels more nervous than he does anything else. He can’t say anything besides a cold, “Ket.”

It was probably better that he didn’t immediately demand Ket tell him of any birthmarks because his grandmother showed up behind them and confirmed his fears.

She was an eladrin. Assuming there was no adoption at play that meant his theory _most certainly_ had legs. They stepped outside to talk and the rest of the group made a move to the door to not-so subtly eavesdrop, but Orem turned the other way and slid down the wall to rest on a long bench that had been shoved against the wall. The blood rushed to his ears and his stomach dropped out from beneath him. 

It didn’t feel possible. If this were true, if he were right, he had been working alongside this soulmate this entire time and had never noticed or realized. _Yes_ , there were many complications, _yes_ the idea of him finally finding his soulmate was terrifying, the fact that it could be _Ket_ was even worse. Ket, who had never been straight with him in his life, who was not an eladrin, who had never said anything to Orem if _he_ had felt like Orem might be _his_ soulmate.

He doesn’t speak up about any of it. The Coil is a threat, Lek is important, he knows, _he knows_ but he cannot focus on any of that, the only thing that breaks through the haze is the sensation of Ket casting a glance his way and how he can’t stand it.

  
  


* * *

  
  


As always, there is no time to talk or think about it. Traveling through vertices leaves little time for private conversation. As far as Ket is concerned, Orem is standoffish because of how he left, and because at the end of the day, he _is_ Orem.

  
  


* * *

  
  


And then there _is_ time to talk, six months worth of time with nothing else to do _but_ talk.

Orem makes it a day.

Ket never did take well to being confined like this, and he was easy enough to find, pacing the deck of the ship aimlessly. Ket paused on seeing him and knew at once from the flat expression on Orem’s face that this was not a conversation he could snark his way out of.

Orem had thought long and hard about what to say, and he was too tired to be anything other than direct.

“Do you have any birthmarks?”

Ket was clearly taken aback by the question, and Orem’s flat tone left no room for an argument.

“Uh… Yeah, I do.”

He rolled up the sleeve of his coat and held out his arm. The same arm where Orem’s vine had blossomed even a few new flowers since he had found Ket again.

Ket did not have a seed, or a flower. Perhaps, if you squinted, but what was on _his_ arm was a faded splotch of darker color skin.

“It used to be smaller,” Ket mumbled, “I asked Randus about it at the time when I noticed it wasn’t anymore and he seemed to think it was fine. It doesn’t hurt, so…”

Ket shrugged, his focus more on Orem, expression slightly –pained? Worried? Unless Orem was reading into something that wasn’t there.

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt the streak of heat run down his cheeks.

Ket didn’t know how to respond and Orem didn’t give him the time to. This was his answer, whether he was ready to hear it or not, and he turned on his heel and rushed away to the closet he called his cabin. 

He didn’t sob, but as Orem moved himself into the corner of his bed and pulled his knees to his chest, the tears flowed freely nonetheless.

That was as much proof as he could possibly hope to have. Ket was his soulmate, or at least part of him was, in a way that was clearly broken. He hadn’t recognized his own soulmate for who he was for _years_ , and clearly Ket hadn’t either and in that time they had both done things there were downright _cruel_ to each other. This whole situation was cruel.

Was he supposed to tell Ket what the truth was? How to explain it when Ket probably had no idea of the concept at all?

When Ket finally went to go find Orem a few hours later he found him still unmoving in his corner of the bed, staring at a blank spot on the wall. Orem made no move or sound as Ket slid into the room, nor as he ever so gingerly sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

The longer Ket remained silent the more palpable the tension became, so after a long minute he sighed.

“You know, when you explained it to me all those years ago, about how your mark meant you had a soulmate, I wondered if mine could be anything like that.”

Ket looked at him through the corner of his eye, but Orem stayed silent and unmoving, which was its own kind of answer. So he continued on, “I guess I’ve messed things up, soul-wise, huh?”

Orem tried to respond but what came out was a strangled sob, and he buried his face into his knees again. As if he hadn’t suffered enough indignity, he felt an arm reach around his shoulders and pull him into a tight hug.

(If he could have seen Ket’s face, Orem might have realized that Ket seemed just as lost, and that this was for a lack of any other ideas of what he should do.)

It was entirely too much to bear, but Orem couldn’t bring himself to pull away from it, and he was already so exhausted that his sobs died out before very long at all. When all seemed well, Ket loosened his arms and let them drop, let out a breath and said, “I guess I don’t have to tell you that I don’t know how any of this works.”

Orem’s voice was raspy but he at least managed to get out _words_. “I guess I don’t really, either.”

He pulled away from Ket’s chest to look up at him, eyes still rimmed red, “Did you have any idea?”

Orem had not seen Ket be really, truly flustered before then, but his face went red at the question.

“I… Always liked you, I suppose. But it never seemed like a good idea, and I… I’m not sure. Is it supposed to be obvious?”

Orem couldn’t muster up the energy for even a sad laugh.

“I guess not.”

Ket fixed him with a look that was pity and sadness and confusion and a little bit of hope all at once, and then started to pull away. At the loss of this new warmth Orem’s reflex was to grab Ket’s wrist.

“I—” was all he got out before he looked up at Ket and realized just how close they were. There had always been so much to think about, and now Orem’s thoughts circled around how Ket _agreed_ they were soulmates, that he just, moments ago, admitted to liking Orem, even if he didn’t think it was a good idea.

They were soulmates, after all; even if it was broken, it was fate. His emotionally exhausted brain didn’t have time to come up with a counterargument before Orem leaned forward and kissed him.

It is not magical, it does not change everything or fix everything all at once, but Ket does not pull away. In fact, after his initial moment of surprise, he starts kissing back, and the longer they linger, the more Orem feels the cold pit of dread in his stomach be replaced by a feeling that is thicker and warmer and much harder to identify.

  
  


* * *

The seed on his wrist still grows slowly, but it turns out that, with the proper nurturing, it had the potential to become a whole garden.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Fic written during sleepless nights over the course of 2 days. I figured it was a travesty there wasn't a soulmate AU before now, even if this one doesnt have nearly enough pining.
> 
> And shout out to styyxx for Beta-ing this. Happy late valentines to everyone!


End file.
